


Come Over and Make Me

by Riotangel



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Dry Humping, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Palming, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Public Display of Affection, Public Humiliation, Submissive Rick, have fun kids, my shit needs work smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 02:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riotangel/pseuds/Riotangel
Summary: Another super fun tumblr prompt in which Ricky Dicky doo da gets his ass beat.





	Come Over and Make Me

It was truly exhausting, his voice was never ending, sticking with every move he made. Rick wished that he didn’t remember every suggestive comment that the older man made, every sly comment, he wished he didn’t remember how it felt to be on his knees, a firm leather clad grasp on his jaw, but every time he saw Negan’s face, he did. He’d much rather think of anything besides the fact that Negan was nearly always teasingly nose to nose with him, forcing them to meet eyes, even when Rick hadn’t done anything at all wrong, he liked to assert the dominance, as if it wasn’t clear already. To everyone. The way he would sling his arm around Rick’s shoulder, the way his lips would curl into a smirk whenever color appeared on Grimes’ face, when there were less people he’d even occasionally slip his hand lower, kneading at the tender, slightly bronzed flesh under Rick’s too thin cotton shirt. Rick would never admit it, but it filled him with a sliver of pride in that humiliation, that he was such a ‘sweetheart’ according to the savior. He felt trapped even when Negan wasn’t in Alexandria, trapped and grabbed in a grip of cycling thoughts, refuse, submit, lash out, repeat.

It didn’t go how Rick expected it to, though. He’d thought about this, he knew deep down how inevitable it really was, their closeness becoming more than just for intimidation. He had all the shit, half their shit, whatever, when the devil himself jumped out of the truck with a nearly howling laugh, bat thrown over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the grounds and landing on exactly who he was searching for.

“Day-um!” He practically spun, looking around the quaint neighborhood. “Is it just me or are you guys lacking a bit around here?” He was calling out, walking directly towards Rick, who was doing all in his power to ignore the man, set on fixing the porch. It didn’t exactly help his case that two buttons on his shirt were popped, and he was already burning in the summer heat.   
“Well good morning to you, Rick.” Negan popped the ‘CK’, still staring down and waiting for a response. “No answer? Haven’t we gone over this?” Negan never failed to bring up their first meeting, and every time he remembered being dragged, sobbing, and felt sick to his stomach until he looked up, met with that sly grin. “Mornin’.” Was the short answer.   
“Are those crates all you’ve got for me? Because hell, I’m gonna need a house if that’s all you got, sugar.”

The pet name made Rick want to knock in Negan’s teeth, though of course, as always, stirred a spark of excitement he had come to accept.   
“That’s all. Dry spell, our garden is late for the season.” Was Rick’s short answer, before he was pulled up with firm arms on his shoulders which was unexpected, he practically squeaked. That always inflated Negan’s ego, making Alexandria’s leader flustered.   
“I mean, damn Rick, you coulda just said!” He was playing the power game again. “Though I expect my share, and I expect it now. Any ideas about what we could do about that? Anything to make up for what I’m losing? I mean, you’re a pretty thing-” the way his tongue shot out slightly to wet his lips made Rick’s insides twist, and he turned on his heel. Negan did this every time. Every damn time. Something mildly suggestive, always some excuse.

“You want your lemonade? Because that’s about the only food you’ll eat that we have left.” His tone was daring, but always a little shaky at the end, having to look a six three leather clad man in the eye never really helped his confidence.   
“Well if you’re inviting me inside-” his bat slung over his shoulder again as he made his way onto the porch and inside.

Rick was tired, Negan always had to drag this shit out, tease, insult, degrade, praise… all within the span of minutes. “See, Rick, I was thinking-” he put Lucille down onto the table, standing closely behind Rick as he shuffled through the pantry looking for anything that he could use to satisfy the other group.   
“Mhm?”  
“You could do a little something for me, and I’ll let you off the hook, this time.” He was obvious, Rick wasn’t so oblivious to that.   
“They already like calling me your bitch, people suspect that shit anyway, why d'ya think I’d want to make that a reality?” Rick was defensive, too defensive, and he knew it the moment that he saw the smirk on the other man’s face grow.   
“Why confirm it?” He took a step closer, and Rick was hyper aware of the space between them, rapidly shrinking. “Because we’d both get a hella lot of fun out it, your family benefits, I benefit, you sure as hell benefit, I’ve seen the way you look at me. Those big eyes, practically begging for approval.”   
By this point his cheeks were burning and he was backed up against the granite counter, stone cool under his burning skin. He was too caught up in his thoughts to notice Negan coming closer and closer until he felt solid firm hands on his waist, so much different than what he’d had with any other woman. He also didn’t notice the slight gasp, but Negan definitely did. “Oh… you like that, don’t you Rick? Yeah…” he was pressing close now. “I wanna hear that again, doll…”  
Rick broke down then after months of fighting this moment, his body betraying him and he choked out a soft ‘Make me’.

“Now, that! That, sweetheart, is what I want to hear.”  
Before Rick could process anything more, Negan’s firm hand was cupping between his legs, squeezing a bit and trapping him back.   
“Shit, you’re mewling, mewling like a little kitten. You know you’re mine, right? Damn, I could just call you a pet. I bet you’d like that.”

Rick really couldn’t get any coherent words out, just blindly nodding and pushing into Negan’s hand, which was now expertly palming at the growing bulge in the smaller man’s jeans.   
“I’ve always thought these were tight, showing off your pretty ass but fuckin’ shit! You’re such a needy thing already?” He honestly found it amusing and he wanted more, other hand threading through the waves of his boy’s sandy hair, tugging just a bit to expose his neck, and once he started that sucking and biting, Rick really couldn’t hide the pained whimpers, the shaking thighs that were gradually becoming more and more spread. Hands soon traveled under Rick’s jeans, slowly and firmly stroking against, through and under his boxers, which had Rick being vocal as hell, gasping and squirming, on the verge of begging. He was trapped, and everything felt so so good, he was in a haze, head lolling on Negan’s shoulder before he knew he was coming, being held firmly through it- Rick didn’t care who was holding him, it just felt safe, and that’s what he needed now.


End file.
